A Farewell
by Maireh
Summary: He had loved her, once, years ago, and now he must say a farwell.


_______________________I do not own the Inheritance Cycle._  
_A drabble. It's short, its complete, and roughly inspired by the Pellinor Series. Hopefully, you can understand the all that's going on. _  
_Anyway, enjoy,_

* * *

Before the temple of the gods, Murtagh bowed his head, as he hadn't done since he was a child, but that was many years ago, when he viewed the world with innocent eyes and believed in such gods and the miracles they brought. Murtagh hadn't come here to worship, he had come to pay his respects, not to the gods but to someone much more real.

Light spilled into the room, many shades of red and green and blue and gold, through the colored glass arch above onto a low dais at the far end. On the dais rested a stone cist that gave the impression of weightlessness, a marble statuette of a woman laying atop it, resting in an eternal slumber, three arum lilies held to her chest by her long, pale fingers. Outside the sounds of birds could be heard, as they flew branch to branch arguing amongst each other, with neither a care nor a sorrow.

He gently ran his fingers across the cheek of the stone woman, marveling at the likeness. Unlike the woman she was sculpted to represent, she didn't cringe away from his touch. She simply lay there. A sorrow gripped his heart, making it near impossible for him to breath, and he gasped, drawing his hand away from her face. He placed his hands on the edge of the cist for support, his legs felt like they could no longer hold him.

She had lived her life, had sons and daughters and a husband, and ruled the land of Alagaësia with unmatchable grace, and now- he sucked in a breath- now, she was dead. Murtagh wondered, as he often did, whether or not she had ever forgiven him. He doubted she had, but he hoped…

And now he would never know.

_I didn't know her well enough,_ Murtagh thought, _to feel this sad. _But even as he thought this, he knew it was nonsense, a denial of deeper knowing. He had thought that he loved her once; he would have turned the world over for her, but that was long ago it seemed now, in another life.

Had things been different perhaps he could have turned his desire for her into love, but fate had taken a cruel twist and it was to never be. _When we parted last there was promise of many things, of friendship, of conversations, of learning; and now all that promise is frozen in the past like animals frozen in a glacier… Is that what I'm really mourning? The conversations we never had, the jokes we never shared, the lovers we will never be? If I had returned sooner would you have even talked to me?_

In his mind's eyes, Murtagh could see her as vividly as if she stood before him. She was small and slender, her hair curling carefully around her face, her expression intelligent, mobile, and grave. _Yes,_ he thought, _I think you would, but you never say the words I desire to hear._

_I said I would return, all those years ago, and I did. You should know that I did, before now, but it was too late. I hid in the shadows, as I watched you play in the gardens with your children, but I didn't come out. I didn't want to burden you. Perhaps it was for the best. I don't know. _

"I wanted to tell you-" he said, and jumped, because he had spoken out loud. But who would hear him? He dug his nails into the lid of stone. It was important for him to say at last what he wanted to say even if there was no one to hear it.

"I wanted to tell you that I forgave myself for giving up, when you hadn't. That I never regretted not killing you, when I took you, but I do regret what happened afterwards. You saved me when you were held in Galbatorix's palace," he said. "You saved me, when I couldn't manage to save myself. If it weren't for you Galbatorix would still be alive, and I would still be forced to work for him." Murtagh paused and took a deep breath.

He stared down at his hands. "But no one's free here, not really. I've been watching everything from a distance, I think a war will break soon if we're not careful. The magicians are beginning to rebel against you, that's why I came, to warn you. They're not happy about being repressed, can't say that I blame them, and they wish to overthrow your law against them." He closed his eyes. "I just wish I had gotten here sooner to warn you, and I know I'm speaking to empty space, that you're not here, and will never come back, but I also wanted to tell I'm sorry. For everything."

Murtagh fell silent and stood there for a very long time, with his head in his hand. Finally he stood up and when to the doors, taking one last look at the Queen's coffin. "Farewell, Nasuada," he whispered, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

_A/N: Like I said this is just a drabble a quick thing that was written to get my thoughts out. I never believed Murtagh and Nasuada would get together. She saw him as her torturer, and that's not something you can forget. As for Murtagh, I had always thought that his love for her was little more than a fancy, a extreme fancy, but a fancy nonetheless. Anyhow, thanks for reading._


End file.
